I was in the park, grubbing around, and we sort of struck up a
conversation. It's the easiest place to meet people, if there're any
grownups around without kids, or any single moms. They get to wondering
why a perfectly good twenty-six-year-old is getting all dirty in the sand.
"Have you lost something? Is that your daughter on the swings? Do you come
here often?"

I usually lie to them.

So this one chick comes over and she's not asking dumb questions,
just says "Can I help?" and starts digging wtih me in the damp sand. Well,
I'm wondering if she's one of those social worker types who gets in there
with you and pretends not to think you're crazy so they can Guide You. But
she's digging better than me, gets a stick and some rocks to mess around
with, and soon we're turning that hole into a moat for our castle.

I think she's a dyke, 'cause I think she knows I'm a woman, unlike
most people I meet. Plus, I think that's why she's over here, she's
interested in me because I'm a woman and clearly queer. Problem is, she's
wrong.

But I keep building. And pretty soon, we're done, and before I
know what's happening she bounces up and kicks the castle over and time
hangs there for a minute while she looks at me challengingly. Then we're
off, and we sprint across the grass and sort of instinctively get into a
tickle fight. Which is great, because you know where that can lead. We're
getting grass stains all over ourselves, but we don't care cause we were
both wearing all black. And I'm really glad I wore a bra today, because it
gives some form to those estrogen-induced breast wannabes of mine. And
then we both stop and, like the reckless wanton that I am, I kiss her.

For half an hour.

It's a big park, and it's full of bushes and things, so I don't
know if nobody notices us or if they're just being really tolerant of
young love or something. Stuff is going fast enough, though, that I'm
starting to panic about what she thinks I am, really, and how much she'd
freak if she was wrong. I mean, you can only assume so much and the rest
is on luck. She senses this - bonus points for her, stranger girl! - and
asks "What's wrong?" The first words I ever hear from her. She has a real
nice voice, too. And I don't, so I just whisper.